


got away by some mistake

by phenotype



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, op doesn't know how to put italics in summary, this is for hq swift week ty for enabling my brainrot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:21:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26449213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phenotype/pseuds/phenotype
Summary: And it was like being told,I've come to take the pieces of me you've kept for yourself.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 5
Kudos: 38





	got away by some mistake

**Author's Note:**

> for hq swift week day one (the way i loved you, fearless)  
> today i offer you oikuroo brainrot

The doorbell rings just as Oikawa settles on his couch, and he springs up to the mirror in his living room to sweep his hair to the side, grin at himself, turning to look in both angles. He leans into the mirror to look closer, breath fogging up the glass and blurring his reflection. Ushijima must have left something with him, and he briefly thinks back to his coat pockets if he'd unknowingly taken something while they were out.

"Wakatoshi, did you forget " and then he stops, because it's not who he's expecting at his door. Instead, there stands Kuroo in his workout gear and mufflers (because unlike Oikawa, he likes to jog at night instead of early mornings).

"Hey, I'm here to get the rest of my things," Kuroo says, and Oikawa doesn't know what to say except a forced out _oh,_ from the back of his throat, because what else do you say to an ex boyfriend you're still in love with when they show up at your front door?

Kuroo must have read the look of confusion on his face (that's what he was always good at doing) and adds an _Is that okay with you?_ because what he doesn't know is this: it will always be okay, no matter if he came two, three, or four years from now, Oikawa will always let him in. _Hey, I missed you, come,_ he doesn't say.

"Sorry, I never got to finish putting them all away, but most of them should be in a box by the storage closet, I'll get them," Oikawa lies instead, because the extra mugs and towels and old shirts, even Kuroo's stupid cat slippers and his half finished hair gel in the bathroom, are all still there. He never put them away because it reminded him of home, and that's where Oikawa went wrong: home should never have been a person to come back to. _(When they leave, what then?)_

"That's alright, we can put them away together," Kuroo says, and it was like being told, _I've come to take the pieces of me you've kept for yourself._ And when Kuroo walks by the polaroids of them scattered on Oikawa's fridge along with pictures of their friends, he hopes Kuroo wouldn't look close enough to notice.

* * *

Oikawa comes back with a large, open box. He motions for them to get settled in the living room, and after a few moments they're taking turns putting away the fragments of Kuroo's heart left in Oikawa's apartment: the red cat shaped mug whose porcelain ears poke Kuroo's eyes when he drinks coffee (it's his favorite one), the half finished hair gel in the bathroom cabinet (Oh, thanks for keeping this, I was running out but never got the time to pick up some more), the old, white Nekoma jersey in Oikawa's closet (he had to settle, because Kuroo wouldn't give him the red one).

The box fills up as they work silence and Oikawa thinks it's funny how this is so unlike their last night together: loud and frustrated arguing, things yelled out that neither of them meant, Kuroo walking out the door.

Oikawa never followed him out, so he never knew, but Kuroo sat at the staircase by Oikawa's apartment complex for an hour wondering if he should go back, or if Oikawa will come for him, but neither happened. Kuroo left then, but his heart didn't. Now, four months later, he's come to take back the fragments of his heart and maybe this time he can build it back up properly now that he's got the missing pieces.

He's sure that's what he wants, but the name that left Oikawa's mouth when he opened the door has been bouncing around Kuroo's head this entire time. _Wakatoshi, did you forget?_ but Kuroo thinks the tone wasn't quite like the lilt of Oikawa's voice when he used to say _Tetsu_ and he would be lying if he said a slight feeling of satisfaction hasn't pooled in him from the difference. And so he says, "He's the guy?"

Oikawa places chemistry reference books a little too forcefully down on the living room floor. He wants to tell him _Wakatoshi and I are close, but we're not together, he knows I'm still in love with you_ but it comes out as "What's it to you?"

"What's he like?" and there goes Kuroo's habit of answering a question with another question. Oikawa thinks back to Wakatoshi. "He's unlike you," he says then. And he means it. Because Wakatoshi has come right on time for every dinner they've had, not ten, twenty or thirty minutes late, no _Sorry, babe, I was stuck in traffic, I got you three of your favorite milk breads though, hope that makes up for it, I know they sell out quick at the convenience store by your apartment_.

Wakatoshi gives him freshly baked cookies when he's feeling down, with a note saying _I made these with a friend. Feel better, Tooru_. He opens doors for him and lets him walk on the inner sidewalk when they're together. Wakatoshi brushes the hair out of his face when the wind gets in the way, and he offers him a scarf and gloves when it gets too cold outside. He texts to make sure Oikawa has gotten home safe, calls when he says he will, and tells him when he can't. Wakatoshi is endearing and sincere and charming in a different way that Kuroo was.

With Kuroo, Oikawa spent three hours baking all kinds of burnt, too chewy, and too sweet pastries until he forgot why he was feeling down in the first place. Kuroo races him to the door and shuts it on his face and laughs, then kisses him on the cheek when he sulks. His laundry pile grows whenever it rains, because Kuroo would use him as a shield against cars who accelerate in puddles. Kuroo ruffles his hair to mess it up more and grabs Oikawa's hand in his, blowing huffs of air to warm them up. He walks Oikawa home when it gets too late, and falls asleep on him during three hour video calls, saying _Sorry, I was pretty tired but I still wanted to see your face._

Wakatoshi is comfortable, Oikawa thinks, but Kuroo was home.

* * *

And Kuroo doesn't know what _unlike you_ entails. There's a little stab in his chest and he thinks a tiny piece of his heart fell out again, but he pretends it didn't happen. He says, "You must be happy then," and feigns a laugh. He looks down because he knows if their eyes meet, Oikawa will know what he's thinking. They've always been good at reading the other, for better or for worse.

Oikawa looks down too. "We're not together you know, but yeah, I'm happy." He wants to add, _I was happier with you,_ but instead he says, "He deserves better though," because it's true. "Wakatoshi knows I can't give him what he deserves, but he's still here for me. He's a good friend."

Kuroo doesn't press any further because he came to Oikawa's apartment to take his heart back. He ignores the rising feeling of hope clutching at his chest and instead puts the rest of his belongings from Oikawa's apartment in the cardboard box. It's filled to the brim. Somewhere in that box there's fragments of his heart lying around, and he's going to collect them later and put them back together.

Oikawa wants to ask, _Can we try again?_ but instead he says, "Can I keep the white jersey?" He's looking up at Kuroo now. When their eyes meet, there's a millisecond of silence from when their hearts both skipped a beat at the same time. Because Kuroo knows, and Oikawa does too.

_I want us to try one more time,_ Kuroo doesn't say, but replies "Yeah, of course," and he digs through the box for the old jersey, now tinged a light yellow from wearing down over the years. They both stand up then, and Oikawa walks him to the front door while he carries the box. While he carries his heart.

When Kuroo steps out of his apartment he doesn't say goodbye. He says, "See you later?" to which Oikawa replies with a smile, because he knows _later_ won't happen anytime soon. Because Kuroo still has his heart in the box, and he's yet to put it together. Because Oikawa needs to learn that the only person _home_ can be is Oikawa himself. And maybe apologies can come along when _later_ arrives, but for now, they're okay with this: the old white Nekoma jersey now sitting back in Oikawa's closet, and the fragments of Kuroo's heart back where it belongs.

Maybe they can try again when _later_ comes.

**Author's Note:**

> watch me cry on twitter @twostarhotel


End file.
